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Thursday, April 30, 2015

Wow! I did it! Congratulations to all of you who are successfully completing the 2015 A to Z Challenge today!

I have a piece of flash fiction for you today.

Today's word: ZYDECO

I chose this word when I saw a clip of a zydeco band awhile back. Enjoy!

Zydeco

The stars glimmered in the sky, and the
multicolored lights gleamed like jewels around the patio. Anna looked around as people danced all
around her, men, women, and children in brilliant clothes swinging and laughing
to the lively music. The band stood on a
stage, elevated above the crowd. The wet
heat of the Louisiana night had sweat beading on their brows and around their
collars, but they continued to play without a care in the world.

“Hello there.”

Anna followed the smooth, deep voice to see
Anton. He was wearing a brilliant smile.

Returning the smile, she suddenly felt
quite bold. It might have been due in
part of the glass of wine she just finished.
“Would you like to dance with me?”

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Here we are at the penultimate day of the A to Z Challenge! Today I have a drabble for you. A drabble is a story told in precisely 100 words.

Today's word: YELL

Enjoy!

Yell

The blissful calm of the beach was stunning. Octavia took a deep breath, allowing the
salty tang to fill her until she felt ready to burst.

Gentle ocean waves lapped at the grains of
sand near her bare feet. She dipped a
toe in, and the chill sent an electric tingle through her body. The orange glow of dawn made everything new
with its enchanting light.

With a smile splitting her face nearly in
two, Octavia leaned back and let out a good, hearty yell. Not one of anger, but of exhilaration. She simply couldn’t contain the joy she felt.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

I have a Choose Your Own Adventure story for you today! This is the last one for the A to Z Challenge. These little things have been fun, but also challenging. Then again, I think that's the point of this, isn't it?

Today's word is: XENOCRACY

A xenocracy is a government by composed of a body of foreigners. I decided to go the alien invasion route with this one.

Enjoy!

Xenocracy

Life post-invasion isn’t all roses, sure,
but you can at least say that you snagged a decent job. Okay, people in the street call you a traitor
and throw things at you, but the benefits are good.

Well, they’re tolerable, anyway. And pre-invasion you wouldn’t have been
excited about cleaning the toilets for the new seven-foot-tall, green skinned
leaders of the xenocratic government that now rules all of Earth. Considering the other jobs available, though,
you’ll take what you can get. Most days,
at least.

Today, however, you are about to deliver
some unpleasant news. All of the toilets
in the palace are overflowing, and you suspect it was sabotage of a most
disgusting nature.

When you get to the throne room, the door
is guarded by a formidable man.
“There is a meeting at this time,” he says in a stout tone. “Whatever business you have, it must wait.”

A.) If you decide to ignore him and insist that it
is too urgent to wait, click HERE.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Here we are! It's the last week of the A to Z Challenge! If you're struggling to keep going, you can take comfort, because you're almost there.

I have some flash fiction for you.

Today's word: WANDERER

Enjoy!

Wanderer

The wanderer came into our tiny town the
same way he did once every couple of months.
He wore modest, non-remarkable clothes, but he was tall. His presence was notable.

Mr. Miller, the town barber, started
keeping a record of when he came and how long he stayed, which was never more
than a couple of days. I never knew why
some people in town eyed the wanderer with such suspicion. He never hurt anyone that I was aware of, and
though he never went out of his way to talk to anyone, he was polite
enough. When I was twelve, the wanderer
and I accidentally bumped into one another on the corner of Main Street and
Welsh Avenue, and he said “Excuse me, young lady” and went on his way.

The wanderer stopped in to the bank to do
business, but Mrs. Carlisle was the only one who’d ever served him, and she
took the confidentiality rules very seriously.
Even Mr. Carlisle knew nothing about the wanderer’s identity.

When I was twenty-one and home from college
for the summer, the wanderer came again.
I learned about it through hearing the whispers at the local café. People were speculating, and those
speculations became more fantastical as time went on. The prevailing opinion was that he was a con
man who kept on the move so no one could catch him at his game. Some thought he was a murderer that kept the
money he stole from his victims at our bank.
Others guessed involvement in organized crime, or that he worked for the
government.

It fascinated me that such a mythos could develop
around a single person, and I wondered why people just called him by the moniker
“the wanderer” when there were countless other names they could have chosen.

The mystery was shattered the next day when
the wanderer was found dead in an alley.
It soon came to light that a group of people in their late teens and early
twenties had confronted him. They
demanded to know who he was and what he wanted.
They threatened him with knives and baseball bats, though they never got
to use them. The wanderer dropped dead
of a heart attack first.

The family came that afternoon. The wanderer had a family: a wife and two
teenage kids.

He also had a name. Ronald Alfred Winston.

Mrs. Carlisle was questioned, and it came
out that she knew Ronald from childhood.
They’d dated during high school.
They were having an affair.

Scandalous on its own, perhaps, but only in
the most ordinary way. People talked for
a short time afterwards, but it died down relatively quickly. The mystery was more engaging than the
reality.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Tegestology is the collecting of cardboard beer coasters. That seemed like an interesting hobby, so I needed to explore it further.

Enjoy!

Tegestology

You go to at least ten bars a week. People tell you all the time that you have an
addiction, and okay, you probably do, but at least it isn’t a harmful one.

This bar is a new one for you. It’s located in the college district, so you
imagine it’ll be filled with youthful energy.
You’re not necessarily the type to party, but it does feel nice to get
out and relish in new company now and again.

You walk inside, and it’s packed full of
young, scantily-clad bodies. They barely
register in your mind as you spot your prize: a stack of cardboard beer
coasters on the corner of the bar.

Energized, you make a beeline for them, but
the next thing you know, you’re in a heap on the sticky floor.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Emmeline ran her work-roughened hands along
the surface of the quilt covering her lap.
It told many stories, each patch having been contributed by a different
member of her family over the generations.
The original patches were at the center of the quilt, at the heart of
it. Those central squares of fabric were
so faded by the passage of time that Emmeline could hardly guess what the
colors once were, let alone the patterns.

There was an unspoken understanding that
each generation was expected to make their own contribution. It was a sacred pact made across the
centuries, and it linked her to people that had died long before her own great
grandparents were born.

There were times of joy and times of sorrow
in this quilt. There was a patch from
her great great great great great grandmother, taken from the fabric of a dress
she wore as a child in a Japanese-American internment camp during World War II.
There was a patch made from the uniform
her great great grandmother wore while in command of the International Jovian
space station.

She picked up her needle and began to
thread it, thinking it strange that she would be the last person to ever
contribute to this quilt. The war was
devastating, leaving humanity scattered across the remains of the world. There were clusters of people living in
space, most likely, and she hoped they found their own ways to survive. She didn’t want to think that the human race
was about to disappear forever.

Emmeline, however, wouldn’t bring a child
into the world when daily survival was such a struggle. Every day was uncertain, and every last
resource was precious.

Then why did she cut a square of fabric
from an old shirt to add to the family quilt?
There wasn’t going to be anyone to pass it on to, and there were so many
other uses for the fabric that would’ve been more practical.

It was an obligation, she supposed. It was her own small way of connecting to the
past. She’d lived alone for the past
several years, and when she began to sew, embedding a piece of her own life
into the collective history of her family, she felt a connection she hadn’t
felt in a long time.

There were so many stories. So many lives. And she was a part of it all.

It's Friday! Let's Celebrate the Small Things with Lexa Cain! TheCyborgMom and I are your happy co-hosts.

Due to some weird circumstances, I overpaid a bill recently, so this week I got a refund check for $128. I mean, yeah, the money was owed to me, but it still feels nice to get a check in the mail nonetheless.

It's been another good writing week. That's always worth celebrating!

My old coffee pot broke, so I got a new one this week! Yay! The coffee continues to flow!

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Today I have a drabble for you. For those of you who don't know, a drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Today's word: NADIR

Enjoy!

Nadir

The nadir is the lowest point. Rock bottom.
The point at which you have fallen as far as you can.

Nadine couldn’t help but feel that this was
where she was right now. Nothing could
be worse than this. Never in her eleven
years of life had she known anything worse.

She’d never forgive Mrs. Beckman for making
her share a seat on the bus with Bobby
Hines. He smelled like feet, though
Nadine thought most boys did. Bobby,
however, had committed a crime far worse than bad personal hygiene.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Here we are to celebrate another letter of the alphabet! I can't believe we're all the way up to M already! Today I have a piece of flash fiction for you.

Today's word: MISLEAD

I wanted to portray someone who really hates their job, but does it because they have to. That's something I have certainly experienced, and I know a lot of other people have.

P.S.-I don't hate people that work in sales. In fact, I know a lot of people who have or currently do. A lot of these this story was inspired by those experiences.

Enjoy!

Mislead

Who grows up saying that they want to mislead
people for a living? No one I’ve ever
met, anyway. Statistically speaking,
someone on this planet surely grew up saying that, but I’m willing to bet that
it’s rare.

Ugh.
This definitely isn’t where I pictured myself.

It’s
a job. It’s just a job. It pays the bills. If people believe you when you tell them they
can’t live without the thing you’re selling, they . . .

Darn it.
I wish I could tell myself they deserve what’s coming to them. That might make it easier. Unfortunately, I can’t force myself to
believe it.

All I can think about is the rising sense
of panic that I know all too well. That
sense of dread that arises when you realize you’ve spent too much, and that the
bills are coming due, and no matter how you try to stretch things, you’re still
going to come up short. That
overwhelming sense of failure. Other people have nice things like
this. I work hard and I still can’t pull
it off. What’s wrong with me? Where am I screwing this up?

All these people. Some of them can afford it, but most of them
can’t. Most of them are scarcely better
off than I am, and I know I could never pull off the payments for these time
shares.

It’s all about the selling points. See, you convince someone that having this
will give them the freedom to take vacations more regularly, and who doesn’t
want that? Tell them how much money they
would spend on hotel rooms if they don’t take advantage of this amazing
deal. Never mind that the fact that some
of them are taking elaborate vacations at all is going to haunt them later
on. I know that it will, because I’ve
seen their financial statements.

They just want something nice. I can’t hate them for that.

The old man sitting before me now is
considering dipping into his retirement savings to do this. I want to scream at him to leave. I want to tell him what a mistake that would be. “Sir, think of this as an investment in your
retirement,” I say instead.

Ugh.
I’m disgusting.

A smile breaks across his wrinkled
face. “You know what? You’re right.
You only live once, eh?”

That’s definitely true, but some gambles
just aren’t worth it. Again, I still
have the chance to get out of this. I could
tell him the ugly truth, that I’m trained to convince you that you can afford
this no matter how untrue that is, but instead I reach for the paperwork. I do it because, while I do feel dreadful, a
small part of me is relieved. This deal
means I can pay my mortgage this month. “Congratulations,
Sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Today I have another bizarre little poem for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Today's word: LOGORRHEA

Logorrhea is defined as a pathological inability to stop talking. Someone with this disorder may or may not sound coherent. It occurred to me that someone with this problem might become lonely, because people may try to avoid them. That's how this poem came about. I also experimented with formatting a little bit. Hopefully it works.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Here we are, kicking off another week of the A to Z Challenge! Today I have a piece of flash fiction for your enjoyment. I was in a bit of an odd mood when I wrote this one, and I think it shows. It's okay, though. Writer's can produce good things from odd moods.

Today's word: KISS

Here it is!

Kiss

“What a terrible day to die,” Emma murmured
as she scraped several flecks of dried blood off her uniform.

Renny sluggishly moved his head so he could
stare at her. However, given that his
entire system was sluggish due to blood loss and oxygen deprivation, he felt
certain his eyes didn’t look as focused as they normally would. “As far as I’m concerned, every day is a bad day to die.”

Emma looked thoughtful. When she finally gave a curt nod, the
disheveled pile of hair atop her head came tumbling down around her
shoulders. “You’re right, but it’s a
Monday. I always knew that it would be
the day that killed me.”

Renny could hardly believe the strange turn
this conversation had taken. The oxygen
deprivation had to be the culprit. What
other explanation could there be for the fact that, absurd as he thought this
conversation was, he wanted to go along with it anyway? “I think Friday would be worse. Dying on a Monday gets you out of a week of
work. Dying on a Friday means you miss
out on the weekend, and that just seems like a cruel cosmic joke.”

Emma snorted. Then she turned and gave Renny a long,
piercing look. It’s the same look she
always had when studying something with her microscope. Then her features softened somewhat, and
before he had a chance to ask about the sudden change, she leaned over and
kissed him on the cheek.

His hand immediately moved to cover the
spot, stunned by the warmth that lingered there. “Why?” he asked, as that was the only word he
could manage.

With a small shrug, Emma replied, “I felt
like it. Dying sucks, yes, but it could
be worse. At least I’m here with someone
who’s cute and has a good sense of humor.”

Renny’s heart skipped a beat, which really
wasn’t necessary considering how few remained him anyway. “So, if we’d met under different
circumstances and I asked you out, what would you have said?”

A small smile pulled at the corners of Emma’s
mouth. “I think I would have said yes.”

Now it was Renny’s turn to snort. “Good to know. And I guess dying today is a cruel cosmic
joke after all.”

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Here's another drabble for you! A drabble is a story told in precisely 100 words. They're short, but challenging to write.

Today's word: JIFFY

I am speaking of the brevity of a moment in time, and not of the peanut butter. Enjoy!

Jiffy

“Become immortal for a small fee! It’ll only take a jiffy!” the advertisement
proclaimed.

Jimmy stared at the TV, his lip quirked in amusement. The idea of promoting a time-efficient means
of achieving immortality was laughable as it was. Claiming that it was cheap, however . . .

The blood bags chilling in his fridge were a testament to the
steep price that accompanied immortality.
The price was paid by the people from whom that blood was taken. It was also paid for by centuries of
loneliness. The faces of his family were
long forgotten now, as were those of lost lovers.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Today I have a Choose Your Own Adventure story for you! I hope you like it!

Today's word: INFOMANIA

Infomania is defined as the compulsive urge to accumulate news or information. In the case of today's story, the compulsion can lead to trouble.

Enjoy!

Infomania

“Hello.
My name is Robin, and I’m an infomaniac.” The young man sitting next to you is wearing
a wide smile and has a miniature notebook and pen in hand.

You resist the urge to snicker at the way
Robin’s self-labeling resembles another term you’ve heard before. That would be unprofessional. “Thank you, Robin. The first step to moving on is admitting that
you have a problem.” This is the same
line you’ve uttered a thousand times before.

You turn to look at the rest of the
group.From the corner of your eye, you
see Robin writing in his notebook.

This week my oldest son turned six. He had a good birthday. He got a Thomas the Tank Engine tent from us. I can't share a picture of him using it due to some minor camera issues, but I'll get to that when I can. Until then, here's an image to give you an idea of what it looks like.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Hey there! I'm back again, and this time I have a little piece of flash fiction for you.

Today's word: HIRE

Enjoy!

Hire

The job market is tough these days, even if
you have a marketable skill. There are
too many people, and not enough positions.
If you want to get anywhere professionally, you need to know how to
create demand.

Coming to this realization shaped every
inch of my life that followed.

With my state-of-the-art mini missile
launcher slung over my shoulder, I make my way to my next mark. The InterGal Communications building is the
sort of sprawling monstrosity you’d expect from a multi-trillion dollar
company. They have the market cornered
when it comes to inter galactic communications.
If you want to contact a family member on a distant colony, you have to
go through them. That might explain why
they charge so much for their services too.

Not that I’m any better. I charge more for my services than most
people make in a year. Hey, there are
risks involved. I’m not sitting pretty
in an office somewhere calling the shots while someone else gets their hands
dirty. I’m in the field every day.

I take up my position on a grassy
knoll. Yeah, I enjoy little details like
that. I’m facing the wing of the
building that houses R&D. This is
where their engineers work to improve the communications network. There are some brilliant minds in there.

I balance the mini missile launcher on my
shoulder, and with a quick check to make sure everything is aligned, I pull the
trigger.

The resulting explosion knocks me on my
back, and the heat reminds me of cooking out with a barbeque grill on a warm
summer day. Mmmm. That sounds nice right about now.

I stand up and stroll back to my awaiting
vehicle. When I get back, I can inform
my anxious client that InterGal Communications will soon be looking for skilled
engineers. He just may be able to get
the job this time around, and I’ll get paid a tidy sum.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Here I am to present to you a grand tribute to the gallant letter G. Can G actually be gallant? I don't know, but I felt like saying it, so I did. Today I have another drabble for you. I have drawn inspiration from today's word and condensed it into exactly 100 words.

Today's word: GROUSE

There are two definitions of this word, but since there are no birds present, I think you can assume I went with the other definition, which is to complain.

Enjoy

Grouse

Colin sat in his car smoking a
cigarette. His mother would kill him if
she knew. As it was, she was already
considering kicking him out of the house.

Alone in the high school parking lot, he
waited.

The cover of night cast the school in
shadow. It looked like an entirely
different place.

A couple of minutes later, the short, plump
form of Mel Davenport appeared and slipped into the passenger seat. A bruise marred her left cheek.

“My dad’s hitting me again.”

Colin nodded. “My mom says I’m nothing but a
disappointment.”

Mel nodded in understanding. “That sucks.”

And since we're doing the letter G today, I thought I'd share an interesting infographic that has to do with grammar. One of my favorite TV shows, Red Dwarf, is mentioned, so I just had to share it. This comes from http://www.grammarly.com/grammar-check.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Here's another drabble for your reading pleasure. For those of you who don't know, a drabble is a story told in precisely 100 words.

Today's word: FORGOTTEN

You don't need a definition for this one, so let's dig in!

Forgotten

The box lay on the table, unopened and untouched. The accumulated dust on the green paper
proved that it had resided there for many years. The rest of the room was buried under a
similar layer of grime.

This room was home to many forgotten objects. Objects that people left behind when they
moved on. Knickknacks dropped but deemed
too unimportant to warrant a return trip.

Charles stared at the green box. His first acquisition. He didn’t know what was inside, but he
treasured it nonetheless. Having been
abandoned at birth, he knew what it was to be left behind.